What Might Have Been
by Philliwolf5
Summary: When Alistair visits Skyhold, he comes into close contact with Fiona, leader of the rebel mages and former Grey Warden. Despite her best judgement, she finds herself wanting to get closer to this man who has no idea of the bond they share. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Age, nor do I receive compensation for this work. Characters, places, lore, etc. belong to Bioware.


**A/N – This was a challenge on the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers' page on Facebook. We were to write a oneshot about Fiona, with 1000 words or more. This will be a bit AU, since I think Fiona is disciplined (or cold-hearted, depending on how you feel) enough that she wouldn't care to come forward as being Alistair's mother. She comes off as a big "needs of the many" type person. This is my entry. It may not be all that good, but here it is. If you would, review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**

 **Oneshot**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Age or receive any compensation for this work.**

* * *

 **What Might Have Been**

She was watching him again. It seemed like Fiona had done nothing else since Alistair Theirin had arrived at Skyhold two days ago. Since then she'd seen him eating and going to the war room in the keep, practicing in the courtyard, and now here in the library.

He'd come for an audience with the Inquisition, mainly to discuss the Grey Wardens' continued use in Thedas.

After the incident with the Wardens, culminating with the siege at Adamant Fortress, it had only been because of the Inquisitor's esteem for Alistair that the entire organization hadn't been banished from Thedas altogether.

With the unpopular decision to allow the Wardens to remain to aid the Inquisition in their efforts against Corypheus, it would take a very long while for things to calm down. The common folk were angry, and the nobility wanted disciplinary action.

Wardens could hardly go anywhere now without being jeered at or accosted by the locals.

Fiona knew that Alistair would help redeem the Wardens. He had assisted the Hero of Ferelden after all. That had to count for something.

From the looks of it, he had come to the library to study, which he was doing intently. She wanted to get closer, to see what so interested him, to glean whatever precious bit of information she could about him. There was far too much she didn't know, so much she _should_ know.

He was her son after all.

 _Oh, Maric_ , she thought to herself as she crept ever closer, noting the strong jaw, handsome features and broad shoulders he displayed. _What a beautiful boy we have._ Of course he was older now, hardly a boy, and his intense expression told of a life hardened by battle.

She never would have guessed her child would make such a significant difference in the welfare of Thedas. Without him and the Hero of Ferelden, they would all have succumbed to the archdemon and the darkspawn. And now the Inquisition was making leeway in the fight against the breach.

She was unashamed to admit how proud she was of him. If only she could tell him…but perhaps it was best not to.

At first, giving up her child to his father had seemed logical. She was an elf and Grey Warden at the time, had been called to a seemingly higher purpose.

Weisshaupt Fortress was no place for a child, and she had wanted to keep him as far from the Taint as possible. It had been remarkable that she'd even carried him to term.

Never mind that he had grown to become a Grey Warden anyway.

As king Maric could have provided any and all things Alistair had needed. But it hadn't been long after she had left that she had started wondering. Had she done the right thing? He had needed his mother, like all children, and now she was all the family he really had left.

The king could hardly have been obligated to care for the illegitimate, elf-blooded boy of his one-time lover. Fiona had her duties, and neither of them had wanted anything lasting when they had gotten together.

They had merely been the right thing for each other at the time. Once they had escaped the Deep Roads, it wasn't long before they had parted ways.

Sometime later, Fiona had returned to Maric and revealed the boy to him. He had been surprised and not displeased, but in the end had been unable to be the father Alistair needed. Young Prince Cailan had commanded the majority of his time anyway.

It had been best for everyone to keep the child's origins a secret.

Fiona counted them fortunate that Duncan had watched over the boy. Eventually Maric's brother-in-law Eamon had taken him in, leading him to the life he held when he met the Hero.

She'd felt that having humans raise Alistair had been best. His wholly human appearance assured that no one would know of his half-blood heritage. He would be spared the suffering she had endured, all for being an elf.

But Fiona couldn't help but wonder what might have been. Could she have raised him?

"Um, hello there," she heard a man's voice call softly. "Were you waiting for this book?"

Fiona started. She hadn't realized she'd come so close she'd nearly run into Alistair's table. He was looking at her with a slightly bored expression. "I'm afraid it takes quite a while for me to get through _any_ book, let alone one regarding the history of the Wardens. Boring topic, don't you think?"

She couldn't help but smile. He favored Maric and had his soft charisma and playful expression. She moved closer. "Perhaps I may be of assistance? I spend most of my day in this library."

He sat up straighter. "Maker, _yes_. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to find more information about the Calling. None of us really care to talk about it. But the Commander insisted that it's for his research and that some of the rarest books could be found here." He gave a little shiver. "I find it downright depressing."

"Yes," Fiona replied. "I imagine it is." She turned to one of the many bookcases lining the library walls. "I have seen a number of tomes in here regarding the Wardens. I'll fetch a few of them for you, and we can go through them together."

Alistair gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Fiona stared. She wanted to remember this moment, that smile meant only for her, until her last breath. She turned away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with her gawking. A few moments later, she brought over three large books, which he eyed with a put upon sigh.

"This will be fun," he quipped sarcastically. The two worked together for a while, poring over all the lore regarding the Calling and how it affected the Wardens. Alistair jotted down notes here and there, and the two made small talk.

Eventually they finished. Alistair yawned as he stretched. "I can't say I'm not happy that's over. Would you care to accompany me down to the keep to get some lunch?"

Fiona tried to keep her face impassive, to not betray the immense joy she felt. She was about to sit down to a meal with none other than her son. "I would love to," she said softly. _You have no idea._

Once there, Alistair laughed and joked as they ate, and soon there were more people eating with them, attracted by his joviality.

His laugh caught the attention of Leliana, who was making her way to the war room. She came quickly, surprising everyone when she threw her arms about his shoulders from behind and hugged him.

"I was hoping I would run into you while you were here!" she said joyfully. Noting the shocked expressions around her, she composed herself, though she retained her smile. "I was glad to hear of your survival at Adamant. How are you?"

"None the worse for wear, thank the Maker," Alistair answered. "I'm here on more Warden business. I'm glad so many know of me. Otherwise I'm sure I'd be a hated visitor."

Leliana surveyed the room with a shrewd gaze. "No one would dare to make a friend of mine unwelcome." Many eyes were averted at the remark. Only a fool would anger the Nightingale.

"Anyway, I have to get this report to the Inquisitor. Do not leave without seeing me first. We have to have some drinks at the Herald's Rest. Perhaps tonight, you know, for old time's sake?"

Alistair nodded. "But of course. I'll see you there later. I'll probably leave in a day or so, so it'll be good to catch up." His expression turned knowing. "I know Cousland will be very happy to know how you are doing."

Her smile fell a degree. "Doubtful…well, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you soon, Ali."

Alistair shook his head as he watched her go. "For all her acting, I know she still thinks of him."

Fiona could only smile. It was a treat to see him so happy, smiling and laughing with friendly faces. He really was a joy to be around. She wondered if he had always been so.

He must have noticed her silence, because his expression became concerned. "Are you alright, Enchanter?"

She blinked at him. "I am. It's just…" _I'm your mother_ , she wanted to blurt out. "It's just nice to have good food with good friends."

"Oh." Alistair's smile returned. "Yes. It is. Traveling with the Hero was sort of like this. We were all sort of thrown together, and some of us had more regard for each other than others." An image of Morrigan came to his mind. "But by the end of it, we were a family."

"Yes, adventuring can forge bonds that last a lifetime," Fiona nodded in agreement. "I too remember what that was like."

His eyebrows rose in inquiry. "Really?" he asked, genuinely interested. "Do tell."

Fiona wondered if she'd said too much as it is. But in the end, she decided there was no harm. Alistair would soon leave to rejoin the Wardens. Who knew when she would see him again?

"Very well."

She spoke of her time as a Warden. He was most surprised to know she had known Duncan, had seen him through his Joining. She had known him when he was young and untried, new to the lifestyle, long before he was a commander.

Her travels with Duncan and Maric really intrigued Alistair, as did their forays into the Deep Roads together. Fiona spared no detail of the intensity and danger of their battles. Things were very different back then, and even the mention of Loghain's name didn't curb his eagerness to hear what had really happened to shape the monarchy of Ferelden.

His expression turned curious when she mentioned the baby she'd had by the king. He had never heard of it during the years he'd been under Arl Eamon's care, nor had Duncan mentioned anything. That was hardly surprising, Fiona being an elf and all. The court would have frowned on such an affair.

But still…it made him feel like there was something he wasn't putting together, like the biggest piece of the puzzle was missing. Was this child, his apparent half-sibling, still alive?

When asked, Fiona just gave him a quiet smile. "He is," she said. "Ask Eamon about him. You'll find that you're more familiar with him than you think."

Now he was confused.

She soon made her excuses, having duties to attend to. Alistair stood, and before she took her leave, Fiona raised a hand and smoothed his hair. It was a strangely familiar gesture, but she did it as if by impulse. Alistair found it comforting but wondered at her odd expression.

He watched her leave, all the time haunted by the feeling that he'd missed something important. Shaking it off, he sat down to finish off what was left of his meal. Then he made his way to the Rest to wait for Leliana.

* * *

The day came when he needed to depart. He'd completed his research, despite the fact that he hadn't seen Fiona after their time eating together. He'd stifled the disappointment he'd felt. She had had better things to do than hover over him. Still, it would have been nice to see her before he left.

The Inquisitor, Leliana, and Blackwall along with a few others had come to see him off. He mounted his horse and bid them farewell. As he was about to spur his horse into motion, he heard his name. He turned his head toward the courtyard.

It was Fiona. "Please wait just a moment!" She huffed as she caught up to him. "I wanted to give you something." She reached into her robes and pulled something out, handing it up to him. "I made this for you."

Alistair took her gift. It was a light blue handkerchief, stitched to perfection with gold threading accenting its borders. In one corner was the letter "A." Alistair smiled. Was this why he hadn't seen her?

"Wow," he said. "It's lovely."

"I know it's not the most glamorous of gifts," Fiona said with a blush. "But I hope it will be of some use to you."

"It will," he replied, placing the gift in his pocket. His fist against his chest, he gave her a slight bow. "Thank you."

She waved. "Please travel safe."

With a final wave, Alistair set off, his horse trotting through the gates.

Fiona watched him go, unshed tears threatening to fall. She hoped this would not be the last she saw of him. It was quite some time before she left that spot as she watched long after he was out of sight.

It was a couple days into his journey when that feeling, that last puzzle piece, finally settled snugly in Alistair's mind as he rode. His realization nearly startled his horse as he gasped. He calmed the animal as he replayed things in his mind.

Fiona's story…her relationship with Maric…the baby she'd handed over. It couldn't be…

He quickly turned his horse, wheeling his way back from where he'd come, back towards Skyhold, his resolve firm.

* * *

Fiona sat quietly in her quarters, watching the flames dance in the hearth. Alistair had only been gone for a few days now, but it felt like forever, like there would always be a chasm separating them. She had to move past, move forward, just as she always had.

It was for the best.

She turned to the door as a knock sounded. She frowned. Who could it be at this time of night? Rising, she placed her hand on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me," called a familiar, male voice. "It's Alistair."

Eyes wide, Fiona opened the door. What was he doing back here?

Alistair frowned down at her, his expression unreadable. His eyes studied her face for a moment before he uttered a single word.

"Mother?"


End file.
